


Love Like Fools

by Kateera



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Modern Era, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sandor Clegane, Romance, Sansa Stark is a Survivor, Truckers, sansan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: Running from King's Landing and her ex-fiance's controling nature, Sansa just wanted to find a ride home to Winterfell where she could fall into the arms of her family. Creepy is all she truly found and it's enough to keep her from trusting anyone with her safety.On a run from Highgarden to Riverrun, where he works for Riverrun Distributors, Sandor wanted nothing more than a fresh cup of coffee and a shower.What he got was a scared red head hiding behind him while he scared off a couple of creeps and an offer to get her home out of his mouth before he thought better of it.Sansa might be slow to trust new people, but between Joffrey's rage, Petyr's wandering hands, and the men chasing her, she'll take her chances with the tall scarred man and his giant truck.





	1. Chapter 1: Run Baby, Run

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is my first step into the waters that is writing SanSan, please bear with me. I took this on as a bit of therapy writing because oh boy, did I need it.
> 
> Beta'd by the oh so helpful [Schave7728](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schave7728/pseuds/Schave7728). Thank you for easing my anxiety. :)
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) where I'm majorly multi-fandom.

__

_Through the pouring rain_  
_She's searching through the stations_  
_For an unfamiliar song_  
_And she pictures all the places_  
_Where she knows she still belongs_  
_And she smiles the secret smile_  
_Because she knows exactly how_  
_To carry on_  
_So run baby run baby run baby run_  
_Baby run_  
_From the old familiar faces and_  
_Their old familiar ways_  
_To the comfort of the strangers_  
_Slipping out before they say_  
_So long_  
_Baby loves to run_  
  
Ch: 1 - Run Baby Run  
  
Relative quiet filled the air, only broken by the sound of an accelerating car or the far away screeching of tires. Taking care to stay silent and small, Sansa wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach and headed across the highway. Street lamps on either side of the road dropped pools of dim light over the black asphalt, making her dodge and duck to stay in the safety of the shadows. A thin sweater hung from her frame and the cool night air cut through the material as she headed towards the line of large vehicles sitting next to the brightly lit truck stop.  
  
_Keep moving, stay alive._  
  
She knew she was running on empty, her body shivering beyond what the effects of the cool night air. The lack of sleep, of food, of safety, kept her on high alert. Thinking back to the last few hours of sleep she’d stolen yesterday, she shivered in disgust and fear.  
  
_Stupid little dove, so trusting of the world around you, even after all this time? I’d pity you if I wasn’t so disgusted._  
  
Cersei’s voice echoed in her head and Sansa bit her lip to keep the threat of tears away. Crying had never helped her while in the clutches of the Lannister family and it wouldn't help her now.  
  
Throughout her time in King’s Landing, Sansa had clung to the idea that the world wasn’t filled with people trying to hurt her. That outside the sphere of Tywin and Cersei and Joffrey, there were people who were kind and helpful.  
  
_You truly are a little idiot._  
  
Standing in the median of the highway, Sansa turned around and stared at the shabby motel with its dingy white exterior and blinking neon sign. Bile rose up in her throat at the sight of the dirty silver car parked out front.  
  
_Should have stolen the keys, or his wallet, or something._  
  
Sansa shook her head to clear that thought away. Her luck with retaliation stayed her hand, sure that if she tried to steal something for herself, she would be caught and punished. The only thing she could do was run.

 ** _*Yesterday Afternoon*_**  
  
She’d been walking for hours, keeping away from the highway whenever possible in case the Lannisters had already discovered her missing. The sun was making its way across the sky, bringing with it a blistering heat that made her stop at the next gas station and spend a precious amount of her cash on a water bottle. Her feet ached and her back and neck were drenched in sweat as her shirt clung to her skin. When she’d first lowered herself from her bedroom window last night, backpack secured around her shoulders and her hair tucked into a small cap, she’d only thought of escape. Focused only on making it to the edge of the Lannister property without being caught, Sansa hadn’t figured out how she would make it back to her parents with only the little money she’d scrounged from pockets while she cleaned and the meager belongings on her back.  
  
Now, as she trudged along narrow roadways with a bottle of water in one hand and her steps heavy with the constant movement, she wondered if she’d been right to run so quickly.  
  
“No, I had to,” she said to herself with as much confidence as she could muster. “He was planning something for me, something awful, I know it. There was no time.”  
  
The thought of hitchhiking grew more and more attractive as the hours passed and the sun began its slow slide back beneath the horizon. She felt as if her legs had turned from lead to jelly. It had taken no more than thirty minutes on The Kingsroad before a small silver car came to a stop and the window rolled down.  
  
“Miss, this might not be the safest place for a stroll,” he said with a small smile, his voice even and smooth.  
  
Sansa gave him a return smile and shrugged. “Safer than some.” She tried to balance her desire for a ride with her caution of strangers.  
  
“I suppose you’re right about that.” His smile deepened. “I could give you a lift if it’s on my way.”  
  
“Where are you headed?” Sansa asked, hoping she came off as curious instead of snide.  
  
“I’m headed to Riverrun, then onto the Eyrie.”  
  
She shifted her feet and looked back along the heat shimmering pavement of the highway. “I could do with a ride to Riverun.”  
  
_Maybe Uncle Edmure would be able to get me a car for the rest of the way._  
  
He smiled politely and waved to the front seat. “Well, then I will have a tale to tell my wife when I get home. My name is Petyr Baelish.”  
  
“San-dy,” she said with a slight squeak in her voice as she climbed into the car and almost moaned at the feeling of the air-conditioned interior.  
  
“Nice to meet you Sandy.”  
  
Music filled the car, something mellow weighed down with cello notes and a low drum beat and Sansa smiled as Petyr pulled back onto the highway. It hadn’t taken long, with the hot sun soaking in through the window and the air conditioning keeping her cool and comfortable, for Sansa to lean against the warm glass and close her eyes.  
  
Petyr turned down the music and she drifted to sleep with the thrum of string instruments in her ear.  
  
She awoke to fingers sliding underneath her shorts.  
  
**_*Present*_**  
  
Getting as far as a motel was all he cared about.  
  
Turning away from The Hill Cross Motel, the little man sleeping in room 24, and her memories, Sansa crossed the rest of the highway in tense silence. She made her way to the line of trucks along the side of the bright and shiny truck stop, looking at the massive machines and pondering her next move. There was a sign for $5 showers and free coffee with a fill-up under the sign for The Bright Kettle Diner and Sansa sighed at the missed shower opportunity in Petyr’s motel room.  
  
_No, you wouldn’t have wanted that._ She clenched her hands into fists to keep the tears back.  
  
Looking at the various trucks and biting at her lips, Sansa drifted between the large vehicles and searched for any sign that one of the drivers might be amenable to taking on a passenger. Her heart raced the longer she stayed in the open, sure at any moment that Petyr would wake up, find her gone, and make his way towards the truck stop in search of his prize.  
  
A red and white truck caught her eye, shining with a recent wash and announcing to the world that, “This truck rides with the Warrior” on the passenger side door. While the sign looked tacky, Sansa thought she might feel safer in the company of a religious person. Making her decision, she knocked at the door, hoping the driver wasn’t off taking a shower or getting some food.  
  
A rough voice called out from the inside of the cab. “About time you showed up, was about to make do on my own.”  
  
Sansa stepped back, uncertainty clouding her face as a stout balding man with a scruffy mustache popped the door open and looked out.  
  
“You’re not Tysha,” he said with a frown, looking her up and down. “You a new girl?”  
  
Sansa shuffled on her feet and took another step back. “I’m just, uh, I’m looking for a ride north.”  
  
He laughed and pushed the door open fully, letting her see that his pants were undone, and he was busy fondling himself as he looked at her. “You give me a ride, I give you a ride—the only kind of deals I make, little girl.”  
  
Sansa paled and shook her head, horror building in her mind as she backed away from the sneering man. He moved down one of the metal steps and she turned and ran towards the diner.  
  
_I will not cry. I will not cry. Why is everyone so awful?_  
  
The diner was brightly lit and busy for so late at night. A row of metal stools with red seats stood lined up against a white plastic counter and three yellow colored booths sat towards the back. The whole place smelled of coffee and grease. Walking to the stools, Sansa climbed up on one and settled against the counter. She didn’t have much money but she needed a jolt of caffeine to make it through the night and something told her that truckers drank it strong. She couldn’t keep running on adrenaline.  
  
An older woman came over with a large coffee pot, her wide smile brightening up the harried look of an overworked waitress. “You alright miss?”  
  
“I’m fine, thank you,” Sansa said with a small returning smile. “One small coffee please.”  
  
The woman pulled a cup up from beneath the counter and poured a measure of coffee into it. “Anything else?” She pointed to the plastic menu resting in a nearby holder with another smile. “We serve breakfast all day.”  
  
“No, thank you.” Sansa grabbed the large sugar container to her left and shook a fair amount of sweetener into the black inky liquid.  
  
The woman’s smile disappeared. She muttered something about lizards and wandered over to the other side of the counter. Sansa sipped her sugar sweet coffee and looked at the other patrons but they seemed indifferent to her presence as they finished their meals.  
  
A body plopped down onto the stool next to Sansa, making her jump and spin around, barely remembering to put her coffee down before it spilled. A skinny woman in a skintight shiny red dress with the skirt riding up to the top of her thighs, slumped across the counter and waved down the waitress with a tired gesture. Her hair fell in a curtain of brown and blonde streaks as she looked over at Sansa, green eyes surrounded by heavy black makeup.  
  
“Hi, I’m Tysha. I hear you’re new.” She took a sip of her coffee, looking Sansa up and down. “Very new.”  
  
Sansa tucked her hair behind her ear and shrank back in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
Tysha clicked her tongue and squinted her eyes. “No? So you weren’t knocking on Meryn’s door asking for a ride?”  
  
Sansa opened and closed her mouth, trying to force some sort of sound out of her throat. “I, I wasn’t, I mean, that’s not -”  
  
A rough growling voice interrupted Sansa’s stuttering. “Fucking leave the girl alone, Tysh.”  
  
Keeping her arms tucked into her sweater, Sansa looked over in the direction of the new voice and felt the bottom of her stomach drop. Standing close to the cashier counter, his frame almost blocking out the rest of the diner, was the largest and tallest man Sansa had ever seen. He had to stand well over six feet and every inch of him looked heavy with muscle, not the fat she’d seen other drivers sporting. Black wavy hair fell to his shoulders, parted to fall across one side of his face, and peeking through the hair, Sansa could see parts of a large gruesome scar and flashing gray eyes. From his height to his broad shoulders, to the angry grimace twisting his lips, intimidating was too small a word to describe the brutish man.  
  
“I take charge of the new girls,” Tysha said with a sniff. “No harm in that.”  
  
“Girl’s not a lot lizard and you fucking know it,” the big man retorted, crossing his arms and giving Sansa the impression of a solid wall.  
  
“Meryn said-”  
  
“That fucking asshole would take The Maiden for a whore if he could,” the man said, snorting as he dropped a few bills on the counter.  
  
He locked eyes on Sansa and she held her breath as his entire focus engulfed her. “Get back to your family miss, before one of these mangy mutts gets handsy.”  
  
She sat in stunned silence as he glared at the woman behind her and left the eatery.  
  
“Fuck you, Hound,” Tysha said, though low enough that Sansa was sure she was the only one who heard it.  
  
Her interest in Sansa seemingly dissolved, Tysha wandered toward one of the occupied booths, her hips swaying with each step. Downing the rest of her coffee, Sansa tossed two dollars next to the empty cup, slipped her backpack over her shoulders, and hurried after the gruff giant. The night air hit her like a wave after the warmth of the diner and she shuddered as she turned in a circle. The yard looked deserted and there was no sign of the man.  
  
“Damn it.” He’d come to her rescue, mild though it was, and whatever else he might have thought about her, he wasn’t leering or smirking when he told her to go home.  
  
Sighing in defeat, Sansa was about to turn and head back into the well lit diner when something clattered against the side of the building and drew her attention. Two men came from around the corner and her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of the driver she’d talked to earlier that night, the one who wanted a ride of his own. The other man was fairly nondescript, but the sickly smile on his face told her all she needed to know about their intentions.  
  
_Why is the world like this?_  
  
Turning away from them, the thunder of her heart pulsing in her head, Sansa ran. Darkness enveloped her as she darted between vehicles and even with the sound of her blood pounding in her veins, she could hear the scurrying feet of the two men in pursuit.  
  
_Seven help me, please._  
  
Her legs hurt and her breath sent spikes of pain through her side as she flung herself around a large black truck and collided with a solid mass of something that threw her to the ground.  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
Looking up into the eyes of the large man who’d saved her from Tysha’s questions, Sansa scrambled to her feet and ducked behind his frame as Meryn and his friend came around the front of the truck.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” The man bellowed.  
  
Sansa glanced up but he wasn’t looking at her, instead glaring at the two panting men with their hands on their knees.  
  
“Just want to break her in,” Meryn said between breaths. “Tysha said she was new.”  
  
The giant of a man snorted and crossed his arms. “Ain’t happening. Bugger off before I decide to redecorate your faces.”  
  
Meryn grabbed his counterpart, fear clouding his eyes, as they backed away. “Sure, sure. Girl won’t struggle once you’re done with her.”  
  
A growl from the dark haired man sent the two scampering away and Sansa was left alone in the shadow of her well timed rescuer. He turned around and looked down at her, the frown deepening as he leaned against the black truck.  
  
“Didn’t I tell you to get home?”  
  
Shrinking back from his anger, Sansa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the ground. “I know, I’m trying.”  
  
“Not very hard if you’re getting chased in the fucking truck yard.”  
  
“I mean, that’s why I’m here.” She kept her head down. “I was trying to find a way home.”  
  
She heard a scoff and then the shuffle of feet against dirt and she looked up to see him standing right in front of her, a scowl on his horrible face.  
  
“How far is home?”  
  
She could feel her hands shaking but she kept the memory of his rescues at the front of her mind as she answered. “Winterfell.”

The silence felt oppressive as his eyes crinkled and he took a step back.  
  
“Fucking hells,” he said, drawing his hand over his face and shaking his head. “And you’re looking in this cesspool for what, a knight in shining armor? Better off fucking hitchhiking on the highway.”  
  
“No,” she said, her voice shrill and harsh in the night air. “I’m not doing that again.”  
  
She’d rather take her chances on waiting through the night in the diner, maybe finding a family man or a woman or anyone better than Petyr Baelish. Why she’d suddenly placed hope in the growling giant in front of her, Sansa wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t turn back now.  
  
He tilted his head at her for a moment and when understanding dawned, fury flared in his eyes and it seemed to spur him into action.  
  
“I’ll take you,” he said in a low ragged voice, gauging her reactions. “If you want, I can take you home.”  
  
Sansa bit her lip, staring at him in a mix of fear and hope. “What do you want?”

“A beer, a good night's sleep, hell, throw in world peace if you can.” he smirked like a demon and Sana felt her face heat up at his blatant misunderstanding of her question.

“I meant, what do you want from me?” She asked, pushing the words through clenched teeth.

At that he sighed and leaned next to her on the truck. “Who says I have to want anything? And more to the point, I’m your best fucking option.” He waved his hand towards the other trucks. “Those toads have nothing in their minds beyond their next meal and their next fuck.”

Sansa felt her stomach clench at his words. “And you don’t?”

“Nothing on my mind except the job and world peace.”  
  
She thought he was teasing her and it lessened the knot of tension in her stomach. Still, for all her bravery, she couldn’t help voicing her true fears to the fierce man in front of her. “So, you won’t hurt me?”  
  
The man shook his head and even though his fists were clenched at his side, his voice was low and steady. “No girl, I won’t hurt you.”  
  
Wiping her hand on her shorts, Sansa held it out. “I’m Sansa.”

She tried not to shiver as his much larger hand engulfed hers, the close proximity giving her ample time to gaze at the mess of scar tissue on the side of his face. Gruesome, the only word her brain could supply for the horror that covered half of his visage. Red and white splotches marked the area, broken by bits of blackened skin and at one point on his jaw, a sliver of bone peaking through the scar. She knew it was rude but she couldn’t help her initial flinch at the sight.  
  
“Sandor,” he replied, letting her hand go almost as soon as they’d touched and frowning down at her.

_He noticed, damn it._

She coughed and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear to cover up the slight.

He didn’t say anything about her reaction, simply reached around her and opened up the door to his truck, waving her inside. “Hop in. I’ll lock it up and be back in a moment.”  
  
“Where are you going?” She asked, pulling out the folded envelope that held what little money she had. “I don’t have much but I could come with.”  
  
“The little convenience store next to the pumps,” he said with an eye on her worn envelope. “Did you need something?”  
  
“Food if possible and something to drink.” She looked down at the meager amount of money and frowned. “I don’t, I didn’t come with a lot of money.”  
  
“Think I fucking care?” He barked, grabbing her arm—surprisingly gentle—and pushing her towards the open door. “Just get in the truck, girl. It’s not safe anywhere else and I won’t be long.”  
  
Fear climbed up her spine but his hands weren’t hurting her, only guiding her into the cab of the truck, so Sansa nodded and quickly climbed into the passenger seat. “Thank you for helping me.”  
  
“Yeah, sure, just, don’t leave the fucking truck.” He looked uncomfortable as he closed the door, but didn’t say anything else.  
  
Sansa turned her attention to her new surroundings, looking around at the interior while Sandor locked the door and walked away. Two black fabric covered bucket seats sat side by side and with the movement under her, she could tell they were designed to swivel around in the close quarters. Behind the chairs was a row of plastic drawers, each of them with a small latch to keep them closed while the truck moved. Beyond the drawers, a large bed covered what was left of the space with a black and grey checkered comforter spread over the mattress. The walls were bare and a small radio sat in the cubby behind the drivers seat as the only form of entertainment. Even with the bed taking up a majority of the truck’s interior, Sansa wondered how the big man slept in such a small space.  
  
_Must just be used to it._  
  
The adrenaline that had kept her going for so long ebbed away and Sansa looked at her hands to find them shaking. The nightmare of the nights events clung to her skin and she carefully wrapped her sweater around her shoulders and arms, tucking her legs under her to feel as small as possible. She needed food and water. She needed to sleep. She needed to stop running through what Meryn wanted to do to her before she found Sandor.  
  
_Gentle Mother, please keep me safe. Please keep him kind._  
  
With her prayer sent up to The Seven, Sansa smoothed down her sweater and swiveled in her chair. She leaned over to look at all the switches and dials on the drivers side of the truck, wondering at the complexities of driving such a rig. The seat looked worn in and molded to fit his enormous frame.  
  
_I wonder how he keeps so...fit. He’s solid muscle even with a job like this._  
  
A metallic creak on the other side of the truck made her jump back to her side but the door swung open and Sandor peered into the cab with a frown. “Change your mind yet?”  
  
She shook her head. “Are we leaving?”  
  
Grunting and nodding, he threw a couple bags into the space between them and settled behind the steering wheel with a groan. With his presence, the cabin of the truck seemed to shrink and Sansa curled up in her chair to reserve what little space she could for herself. He didn’t seem to notice and rustled through the bags next to her, pulling out a large bottle of chilled black tea and setting it in his cup holder.  
  
“My run won’t be fast, but we’ll get you where you need to go, alright?” Without waiting for her answer, he leaned over and dropped a smaller bag into her lap as he started up the truck.  
  
Looking inside the bag, she saw a pastry wrapped in plastic and a large bottle of water. A smile almost crept across her face at the kind gesture, but then she remembered Petyr’s smile and his soothing music and the air conditioned car and her walls fell back into place.  
  
“Thank you for the food,” she said, her tone politely neutral. “How much do I owe you?”  
  
He grunted as he inserted a key and turned it. “Don’t owe me shit. It’s just a fucking pastry.”  
  
Sansa opened her mouth to say more and then yelped as a loud growl filled the cab and the truck shook with the force of the large engine.  
  
Sandor let out a loud bark of laughter. “Stranger will grumble at you, best get used to it.”  
  
She settled for glaring at him as she opened the pastry’s plastic wrap while Sandor’s attention was on getting the giant vehicle moving. Looking out the window, she could see Petyr’s small silver car still sitting outside the rundown motel, lights making the paint glint in the darkness. The truck (Stranger, she thought with a shake of her head) rumbled away from the diner, lurching out onto the highway and taking her home.


	2. Life is a Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is polite, unobtrusive, clean, and a complete distraction. She's the first passenger Sandor has ever had in his rig and with the way things are going, she's also the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some stuff is hinted at in regards to Sansa's time with Petyr, nothing explicit is said but there is an undertone. That being said, please enjoy my first dip into Sandor's brain.
> 
> Beta'd by the oh so helpful [Schave7728](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schave7728/pseuds/Schave7728). Thank you so much!. :)
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) where I'm majorly multi-fandom.

_There's no load I can't hold_  
_A road so rough this I know_  
_I'll be there when the light comes in_  
_Tell 'em we're survivors_  
_Life is a highway_  
_I wanna ride it all night long_  
_If you're going my way_  
_I wanna drive it all night long_

_Seven fucking hells._

Sandor took another long gulp from his coffee cup and buried the urge to sigh or groan or curse to break the silence of Stranger’s cab. He’d driven through the rest of the night and into the morning and the sun shone down on the black of Shadow’s hood like a fire demon, burning the air around them. Sansa didn’t speak a single full sentence to him as she stared out the window and watched the sunrise.

He was used to the long stretches of loneliness on the road with nothing but the sound of Stranger’s engine and the rattle of rocks against the undercarriage to keep him awake, but there was something uncomfortable about the tense silence coming from Sansa. He only heard her voice when he handed her something to eat or drink and every quiet “please” and “thank you” made him clench his teeth, bitter words burning at the back of his throat as he did his best to keep his language civil.

“Can you please tell me where we will stop tonight?”

He almost inhaled his truck stop coffee, bought at the first place he could find that didn’t have any other trucks in the lot. Is was the first actual sentence from her side of the cab. Beating at his chest to clear the choking sensation, he coughed and wiped at his mouth.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry!” Sansa cried out, reaching and then stopping with her outstretched fingers almost brushing his arm. She drew her hand back and tucked them under her legs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her voice was small and measured and Sandor wanted to tell her where to shove her sorry and her gods. He cleared his throat with a forceful cough instead. Even a brute like him knew enough to not spit curses at a woman who jumped in her seat every time he so much as reached for his coffee cup.

“Not stopping anywhere tonight,” he growled as soon as he could get the words out. “We can make it to Maidenpool tomorrow and I’ll be damned if this place is getting more of my money.”

He hated his routes through the Riverlands. Every bridge seemed to have a fucking toll and every motel thought they were a Dragon Rated establishment. Antlers was a possible rest option, but the truck stop there was disgusting and run by a greedy motherfucker who’d shortchange his own mother.

“I will be fine with not stopping,” Sansa said as she looked into the side mirror on her side of Stranger. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Whatever you say, little bird,” Sandor whispered into his coffee cup, wondering if she’ll be as open with her thanks once she realizes that not stopping means sleeping in the truck.

And I’m not sleeping in my fucking chair.

“What was that?”

Forcing down another choked sound at her words, Sandor shook his head and set his coffee cup back in its holder before it killed him. “Nothing, forget it.”

She shifted in her seat and he knew she was looking at him. “What does ‘little bird’ mean?”

_Oh, so you did hear me. Fuck._

Half of him wanted to be stubborn and keep his mouth shut, sure that she would give it up after a few miles of silence, but she’d initiated a conversation for the first time since she’d asked for help and he couldn’t let the moment die.

“You ever been to the Summer Isles?” She shook her head and he watched her red hair flash in the sunlight from the corner of his eye, distracting as fuck. “Well, they have these little mimic birds in the shops, chirping and twittering and fuck, you just, you sound like some of them with all your bloody thank yous.”

Keeping his eyes forward, he clenched his fists around the leather-covered steering wheel as he felt a flush come to his cheeks. “I don’t fuckin’ mean anything by it. Haven’t you ever had a nickname before?”  
  
Sansa pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I don’t think so. Unless you count insults.”

A bitter feeling built in his gut, a twisting flurry of guilt like he’d done something wrong. Anger slid in behind it. She turned and continued watching the passing landscape, head leaning against the window while her cheek pressed into the bare skin of her knee. He wanted to push her, ask questions, and drag the story out of her like poison from a wound.

_She isn’t a cobra bitten horse, Sandor. You’re sliding._

Elder Brother’s voice rang through his head as he opened his mouth to say...something on the wrong side of gentle. She wouldn’t thank him for the questions burrowing through his mind and he simmered for a moment in his anger until he could wrestle it back into place. He’d worked hard to gain control over his temper and he wouldn’t let this slip of a woman break him.

“Does that mean The Hound is a nickname?” Her sweet voice cut through his mental grumbling and he wrinkled his forehead.

He’d thought their quick conversation was over. “Where’d you hear that name?”

She shrugged. “The lady at the rest stop. That’s what she called you.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, Sandor relaxed and shook his head. “First, that wasn’t a lady you were talking to and if she’d sunk her claws in you, there wouldn’t be anything but blow and blowing in your future.”

Her eyes widened at that and he glared for a moment to watch her fully accept the barely escaped danger she’d walked through that night. “Second, The Hound is my call sign, not a bloody nickname.”

She looked a bit crestfallen and she blushed as she looked down at the floor, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Oh, okay.”

_I’m shit at talking. What the fuck am I doing?_

“I mean, you can use it if you want,” he said, hoping to keep their conversation going. (What is wrong with me?) “Fucking hells, it’s not that big a deal.”

Her eyes widened at his response, but she stayed silent and her eyes returned to the passing trees and hills. His concentration went back to the road, his stomach twisting with the unsatisfactory end to their conversation. Swallowing back a sigh, he sipped on his cooled coffee and pondered their final stopping point. There was a turn off about eighty-five miles ahead with a pleasant lake view. Normally he would push as far as he could before he had to sleep, not caring where he stopped, but with Sansa sitting so still next to him, it felt right to pick somewhere pretty.

_I could pick up a hammock or something once we hit Maidenpool. She’s light enough, should fit above the bed. It’s a while to Winterfell and I’ve gotta pick up a route at The Twins before we even start heading north._

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Sandor frowned and forced his thoughts away from the comfort of his passenger. He wasn’t used to this line of thinking. He usually had no problem keeping his distance from people and they had no problem staying out of his way. Now he was thinking of fucking lakes and hammocks and what she liked to eat and he’d only known her for a few hours.

_Maybe cause she’s the most beautiful woman you've seen in your miserable fucking life._

Her beauty couldn’t be hidden, with skin like smooth ivory, features even and petite, and her mane of red hair shining with gold highlights when the sun hit them. From the delicate arch of her neck as she watched the passing scenery, to the elegant drape of her long shapely legs, she looked womanly soft and beautifully dangerous.

_Oh, shut up you ugly ass dog. You’ll get her back to her family without turning into one of those shitstains like Meryn or Boros._

He knew this world, knew how it liked to chew up the innocent and tear down the pure, eager to rip holes in anything good. He might be a monster when needed, might beat down anyone unlucky enough to land on the wrong side of his anger, but he could put a leash on those tendencies before he hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.

“You hungry?” Sandor asked as they passed a sign announcing ‘Doeheart - forty miles’. “I’ll need to make a stop anyway and Doeheart has a decent burger place.”

Sansa didn’t say anything for a moment but turned to look at him and Sandor shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with the attention. “Why are you being nice to me?”

A familiar heat of rage coiled in his belly. He'd been judged by his appearance his whole life, but hearing that same inflection of doubt in Sansa's voice made him want to hit the breaks and leave her on the side of the road.

“What kind of fucking question is that?” Twisting his hands around the steering wheel, Sandor couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. “You want me to treat you like shit? Do you get off on people fucking you over?”

“No, of course not!” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, leaning her head against her knees like she might have to protect herself.

Sandor fought against the guilt building in his chest. He wouldn’t apologize for taking offense, he wouldn’t.

“Look,” he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. “I’m a grumpy, ugly motherfucker. I don’t talk much and I’ll be as rude as I please cause the world, as it is, sucks ass. But I’ll treat you like a person, feed you what I can, and let you ride with me until you prove to be too much trouble. That work for you?”

She bit her lip and Sandor snapped his eyes back to the road, feeling the burn of something like desire, something he’d thought long dead, stretch beneath his skin. It dragged a line of tension from his shoulders down to his lower back.

“Burgers are good,” she said and the words made him glance over to catch the small smile on her lips.

His loud snort filled the cabin and if it made her smile a bit wider, he buried the urge to call her on it and let the silence settle with a bit more comfort around them.

***

Doeheart was mainly a way stop for travelers, with only a few actual townsfolk that called it home. A few farms scattered around the town brought scant amounts of fresh produce and dairy products and everything else came from Maidenpool, bought with the money brought in by hungry truckers and vacationers looking for rest, gas, and food.

“Stay close,” Sandor growled as Sansa climbed out of the cab and shut the heavy door. “It’s a sight better than Sow’s Horn, but there’s still fuckers wandering around looking for trouble.”

She slid up beside him, red hair spilling over her shoulders as she looked around. “This is a town?”

“Sort of,” Sandor said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking around. “It’s what passes for one this far from King’s Landing.”

He’d parked in front of a pump, Stranger waiting to be filled with fuel for the next leg of their journey while he stretched the kinks of too much sitting from his back. The gas station with its attached convenience store, a rundown motel, and a modern-looking liquor store made up the main street of the way stop. Further down the gravel-covered roads were a smattering of gray shingled houses that made up the neighborhood of Doeheart.

Between the gas station and the liquor store, tucked away with a small red and white awning to keep off the sun, was a roadside food stand with a smattering of outdoor seating clustered in front of an open window. The Doeheart Grill and Sack Bar was painted in curvy black lettering along the side of the building and smoke drifted up from behind the slat board shack.

“Burgers?” Sansa asked in a hopefully cautious sort of way.

“Gas first,” Sandor replied, walking towards the gas station door. “Come on then. I’m not leaving you alone out here.”

He only needed enough fuel to get them to Maidenpool, where the gas would be cheaper and the city a bit safer, but it still felt like too long with Sansa on her own.

_Look at you, caring and shit._

She pulled the straps of her backpack tight against her shoulders and nodded with so much seriousness that he wanted to ruffle her hair just to see some sort of irritation. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he kept his scowl firmly in place and set about the purchase of Stranger’s fuel.

While he handed over his card to the attendant, Sandor kept a clear view of Sansa as she wandered around the little shop. She moved through the space with a humming energy, picking up a trucker hat with a wolf howling on the brim, trying on a pair of brown tinted sunglasses and scrunching her nose as she looked at the price.

She fluttered.

It was the only word he had for how she moved from aisle to aisle, her fingers skimming over shirts and candy bars, bumper stickers and fridge magnets. There was no rhyme or reason to her movements, but it looked like a dance all the same.

“Sir. Sir! Your card.”

Snatching the piece of plastic back from the grinning attendant, Sandor gave him a low growl and watched the kid back away from the counter with a gulp. “Keep your fucking sirs.”

“Alright, okay, man, sorry.” The attendant took a step back, eyes darting between Sandor’s face and the space to his left.

“Excuse me, is there a key for the restroom?” Sansa asked, popping up beside him in a flurry of red hair and looking at the scared attendant.

He almost tripped over his own feet as he turned around and grabbed a key from behind a stack of boxes. “It’s in the back, on the left.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile and fluttered away.

Sandor wanted to punch out the little fucker’s teeth for getting that sweet smile for something as simple as access to the toilet.

“Don’t take forever,” he snapped after her and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

The attendant looked nervous and flinched anytime Sandor looked his way. As entertaining as it was, the kid’s fear highlighted the fact that nobody in Westeros was ever going to see him as anything but an ugly hulking brute.

With a jingle, the door opened and a short slim man walked in, pulling off his sunglasses and looking around with disgust. Sandor didn’t move as the man maneuvered around him and walked to the counter.

“Twenty on pump four please,” the man said as he handed the bills to the attendant.

Sandor turned to look out the window, more to ignore the sniveling man than to actually watch the road. A small breeze rustled through the trees, giving a false hope that it might blow away some of the heat. The thin obnoxious man exited the station and Sandor watched him walk to his silver sedan and take a pump as far from Stranger as possible.

_Judgemental fuck._

"I'm ready," Sansa said on his left.

Sandor didn't physically jump at her sudden reappearance but his heartbeat certainly jumped in tempo and he resisted the urge to grab at his chest. "Stranger's balls, I'm getting you a bell."

He looked down to see her smile and wondered if he should just drop her off in Maidenpool before that smile became something he craved more than his solitude. He could already feel it growing, that desire to be close to her, to protect and cherish and if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't leave her in Doeheart of all places, he'd be smart to rev up Stranger and put as many miles between them as he could.

With a snarl of irritation, Sandor stomped out of the gas station and set about filling Stranger's tank.

_Work fast, get her to Maidenpool, and see if someone else is headed to Winterfell. You don't need to go all the fucking way._

Later, he would thank the gods, all seven of them, that she was so fucking distracting, because, without his constant need to keep his eyes on her, Sandor would have missed her look of panic at the sight of the silver sedan at the edge of the gas station.

"Sansa, what is it?" He asked, setting the pump back in its cradle.

"I'm sorry. It's nothing." She pulled her sweater out of her backpack and wrapped herself up but since it was eighty fucking degrees outside, Sandor wasn't buying it.

"Try again," he said, letting his frustration out with a forceful huff. "And don't lie to me. You're fucking terrible at it."

She curled into a tight ball. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“Let me decide if it’s trouble or not,” Sandor said, his teeth clenched together in an effort to keep his temper down.

Giving him a confused look, Sansa pointed to the silver car behind them. “That car, I think it belongs to the man I tried to hitchhike with.”

“Small, scrawny fucker? Looks like he strokes that goatee every time he talks?”

He’d hoped his description would bring that smile back, but it only seemed to upset her more and he realized that she’d wanted to be wrong.

_Crone’s teats, what did that fucker do?_

“Maybe it’s just coincidence.” She pulled at the edge of her sweater as she talked. “I mean, this is the way to Riverrun.”

Every imaginable curse filtered through his head as Sandor looked around the station for the other driver. He seemed to have vanished, leaving his car at the pump like an asshole.

“You might be right,” Sandor told her as he finished scanning the parking lot and stores. “But we could grab those burgers to go just to be safe.”

She looked between the truck and the open-air seating next to the food stand and shook her head. “No, let's eat somewhere other than the truck.” Picking up her backpack, she slid closer to his side. “I’ll just stay close to you.”

He nodded and led her over to the food stand, thankful for the three people in line before him so he could gather his wits and remember how talking worked. She might be a slip of a woman with hummingbird energy and invisible baggage hanging over her like an anvil, but she held a power over Sandor that consisted of nothing more than trust.

_She looked into this sorry excuse for a face and decided to trust me. Fucking hells._

He clenched his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms. He’d crash Stranger off a cliff before he did anything to change that faith to fear.

Inwardly cursing his foolishness, Sandor watched the first two customers place their orders and skimmed the small laminated menu just to have somewhere to look other than the red-haired shadow beside him. He might have missed it, the small movement that warned of danger, if his mind hadn’t adamantly refused to be distracted from the swish of her hair and the light shuffle of her feet.

Sansa flinched and Sandor turned in time to stop the silver sedan slimeball from grabbing her arm.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sandor growled, pulling Sansa behind him as he brought his entire six foot eight, three hundred pound body into the path of the asshole at the gas station.

“Sansa,” the man said with pleading voice, trying to look around Sandor as if he were merely a wall, not a person. “You must know how dangerous this route you’re taking is. I would be distraught if something were to happen to you.”

Sandor felt a hand clutch the back of his shirt and his own hands formed fists at his side. “You better back the fuck off, before I do something you regret.” The growl had the desired effect but Sandor decided the man must be two screws short of a hardware store because he crossed his arms and smiled.

“Come now, sir,” the man said with a pleasant tone. “We can be reasonable about this.”

Sandor snorted. “Oh, we can?” He looked over at the food stand and the other customers were watching the exchange with interest, as if a soap opera had come to life in their little town.

_Fucking useless sheep._

The little man kept talking, gesturing and smiling like a sleazy politician.“You see, you don’t strike me as a man who enjoys inconvenience and well, she can be a handful.”

The hand at his back clenched harder.

“Now me, I enjoy a challenge.” Weasel man spread his arms out. “While I’m sure you enjoy the simpler things in life.”

“I don’t know, she might be a challenge to you but I haven’t had too much trouble.” Sandor crossed his arms and grinned as wide as he could, taking full advantage of the ugly twist it brought to his face.

The man gasped dramatically and tried to look behind Sandor once more. “Sansa, my dear, you must let me help you. You can’t possibly prefer to be torn apart by this brute. You know you’d be much safer with me.” His eyes flashed as if he’d won something when Sansa’s face peered out from behind Sandor’s back.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me.” Sandor stepped forward and pushed the man back as his hand tried to reach for Sansa again. “Touch her and you’re losing a hand.”

Sansa finally stepped out from behind him and Sandor drew a breath, holding it as she looked at the vile man.

“Safer? I was safer on the highway.” Her eyes flashed to Sandor and he slowly let out his breath at the anger flooding through her eyes, instead of suffocating fear. “I’m staying with Sandor and you can go home to your wife and forget all about me.”

Sandor watched her stand straight and tall and a fierce pride swept over him at her bravery. A few moments ago, she’d been clinging to his shirt and now she looked ready to take the fucker down on her own.

“You ever try to come after me again. If I see you lurking in the shadows, I’m going to make sure everyone knows what you like to do in dark hotel rooms with frightened women.” Her fists clenched at her side and Sandor felt a fury so potent and targeted that it burned like frost along his skin.

“What are you talking about, little bird?” Sandor asked, his voice like scrapping stone as he stepped up beside her. “What the fuck did he do?”

She put a hand on his forearm, bringing him to a standstill while her eyes never left Petyr’s face. “Go, now. It’s not safe for you here.”

Looking down at the small hand resting on his arm, Sandor let the light touch hold him in place while a scared Petyr scrambled back to his car. She stayed there, anchored to him in silence as they watched the small silver car disappear down the road. With a stuttered sigh, Sansa released his arm and Sandor looked down at the four evenly spaced half-moon shaped gouges in his skin, the only evidence of her panic.

She looked tired, pale and worn from the confrontation, and Sandor couldn’t focus on anything except how her blue eyes shone with unspilled tears and her hands shook and how none of it could take away from her radiance. The questions he wanted to ask died on his lips.

“Go, sit down in the shade while I order,” Sandor told her, the unfamiliar urge to hold and comfort lodging itself in his muscles as he held himself back.

She only nodded, all her words evaporating in a slow steady exhale as she picked out a table and set her backpack to the side.

Sandor turned back to the food stand and everyone around him turned away as if he wasn’t aware of their stares and silence only a few seconds ago. He growled but kept his thoughts to himself. The world was awful and full of idiots who watched the horror instead of helping and nothing he spat at these people would change that.

He didn’t have to wait long for his food and the addition of two iced cookies wrapped in plastic, handed to him by a woman who looked so pregnant she could burst, helped cool his temper enough that he left a few extra stags in the tip jar.

“I got us both the same thing,” Sandor said, carefully setting down the tray on the plywood table. “Picky eater isn’t a trait of yours, is it?”

She shook her head and flashed him that damned smile that woke up more than his protective side, brushed at his primal side that he would wrestle back into place for her if it killed him.

“Good.” It came out as more of a grunt but she didn’t seem to mind. Grabbing one of the foil-wrapped burgers, she pulled apart the silver cover and a waft of steam from the simple cheeseburger enveloped her face.

“Oh gods, this is great,” she said, taking a big bite and letting grease and cheese drip onto the foil.

Grinning at the display, Sandor unwrapped his own burger and dumped the container of fries to share between them. “You’re welcome.”

Watching her face turn red as she chewed and swallowed as fast as she could was a sight to behold. Sandor tilted his head, waited for her to stop almost choking on her food.

“I’m so sorry,” she sputtered as soon as she had space to talk. “Thank you. Thank you for feeding me and helping with Petyr.”

She’d set her burger down to talk and Sandor reached over and pushed at the can of Sprite on her tray. “For fuck's sake, little bird. Calm down and drink something before you pass out.”

She dutifully opened her soda and took a drink, her eyes flashing up in confusion as he burst out with a shout of laughter.

“Messing with you is kind of fun though,” he said, biting into his burger with a grin.

She flushed and looked ready to apologize again so he pointed at her food. “Eat, it’s only decent when it’s warm.”

The rest of the meal passed in comfortable silence, like they’d reached a new level of companionship since chasing that dickhead away. She let him have most of the fries and he handed over the cookies because sugar wasn’t really his thing and she smiled again which was sweet enough for him anyway.

***

“If you’re going to put your feet on the dash, take off your fucking shoes,” Sandor growled, watching Sansa from the corner of his eye as she slouched and nibbled at one of her cookies.

She put her feet down in an instant and sat up straighter in the seat. “I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath and counted to ten in a voice very similar to Elder Brother’s soothing tenor. After seeing her fire this afternoon, there was no way he could go back to this polite and strained tension.

“Let’s not start that again.” He gestured to her dirty sneakers. “Just take off your shoes and tell me to fuck off.”

She sat silent for a moment, then slowly slipped off the offending shoes and put her socked feet back on the dash.

Sandor shot her a dark grin. “And the other part?”

That smile followed his words and watching her eyes spark with mischief sent a shock of warmth through his chest.

“Please, fuck off,” Sansa said in the most prim and proper voice that she could manage, leaning back and sinking further into the sun-warmed fabric of her seat.

Letting out a burst of laughter, Sandor watched another small smile form on her lips. “There, now I’ve been politely told off by a little bird.”

When he turned his full attention back to the road ahead, he heard a very faint, but clear, “chirp”.


End file.
